


Plastic Smiles

by aidyr



Category: Hololive, Virtual Streamer Animated Characters
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, But like... the angst isn't TOO bad, Explicit Language, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Some Humor, a little bit of beta: we do slightly better than gura in minecraft, just a dash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:27:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29373834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aidyr/pseuds/aidyr
Summary: It was little things at first: a tired sigh here, a tilted smile there. Barely noticeable and not necessarily cause for concern. After all, everyone had bad days. Everyone forced an occasional smile. But the signs began to pile up, and pretty soon, there was a clear picture being painted of the time traveling detective; a portrait of exhaustion and deep-down sadness. Gura thought the painting was beautiful in its own morbid way, but then again, everything Amelia said and did was beautiful.amesame hurt/comfort for the soul
Relationships: Gawr Gura/Watson Amelia (hololive)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 132





	Plastic Smiles

It was little things at first: a tired sigh here, a tilted smile there. Barely noticeable and not necessarily cause for concern. After all, everyone had bad days. Everyone forced an occasional smile. But the signs began to pile up, and pretty soon, there was a clear picture being painted of the time traveling detective; a portrait of exhaustion and deep-down sadness. Gura thought the painting was beautiful in its own morbid way, but then again, everything Amelia said and did was beautiful. Still, she was saddened. Saddened to see Amelia Watson — her sunshine, her ray of guiding light — shine dim.

Mid afternoon sun shimmered through the shutters, illuminating the floor in cascades of broken light. Gura sat on the sofa, trying to keep her attention trained on the mobile game in her hands. Some dumb, free rhythm game which didn’t satisfy her fingers. She craved more of a challenge. Still, she allowed it to occupy her focus. If she didn’t, she might find herself staring at Amelia.

Given the option, she’d absolutely throw down her phone to study every inch of the detective’s face. From her long lashes, to her soft hair and pillowy lips. The light scars, which littered her body as a constant reminder of various time related escapades. Her nose, shaped and sized to be defined, but not disproportionate. Her skin was pale, setting a perfect stage for her piercing blue eyes. And her voice—

“What’s up?”

 _A…_ Gura blinked and mentally scolded herself. _I got caught staring…_ Seeing no point in keeping up the façade, she closed the game and set her phone aside. “Nothing.” _Just staring at the sun._ “Just wondering when we’re gonna do something. I didn’t invite you over so we could sit around in silence, y’know.” Gura loved their comfortable silences, actually.

“Damn, sorry.” Amelia set her own phone aside, which she’d previously been glued to. “Got a little lost in what I was reading.”

Gura raised a brow, curious. “Whatcha reading?”

“Oh, nothing interesting just…” A flash, a spark of something hidden within her eyes. Something distant and painful. “… Just some stuff about an old museum in London. It’s closing down.”

Gura nodded, slowly. A little incredulously. “Uh huh… Was it a cool museum?”

When Amelia turned, her hair swished around her face. Gura couldn’t help but think it’d be neat to run her fingers through it. “Yeah…” Her gaze flickered briefly to her watch, and Gura was more than wise to it.

The detective seemed to have an interesting relationship with that damnable little thing. On one hand, she’d sometimes regard it as though it were a plague ridden pest; annoying and dangerous and unwelcomed. Its beautiful golden finish was accompanied by otherworldly, unsettling tick-tocking which sometimes unnerved even Gura. Yet still, the Atlantean was more than certain Amelia would rather see the world burn than be separated from the device.

Her smile was fake, yet again, when Amelia finished her thought. “It was a pretty neat place.”

A million questions raced through Gura’s mind, all of which were incited by the look on Ame’s face. _What did that museum mean to you? Why do you look so sad? How come your smile doesn’t reach your eyes? Can I help? I want to help, please let me help…_

Gura returned the smile, equally fake. “Cool beans.” It felt a little hypocritical. “Hey do you wanna like, go out somewhere?”

Amelia hummed, the life returning to her expression. Another smile, this time, it looked real. Something about that made Gura’s tummy feel pleasantly funny. “Sure. What’d you have in mind?”

Gura shrugged. “I dunno. I just wanna get out of this house. Apex predators crave wide open spaces, y’know?”

A shit-eating grin passed Watson’s lips. “Ain’t the wide open space between your ears good enough?”

Despite effectively being called a dumb-dumb, Gura chuckled. “Oi—!” Her shoulders bounced lightly with laughter. She dug her fist playfully into Watson’s side and giggled harder when the detective yelped. “I love you, you ass.” There was a lot of hidden depth in that remark.

When Ame returned the sentiment, she felt lighter than air.

* * *

The next several hours were spent walking around town, not doing anything extraordinary. The mundanity of it didn’t matter though, because every time Amelia laughed at one of her stupid jokes, Gura felt whole. She’d wag her tail and buzz with childlike energy because just being around Amelia Watson felt like a sugar rush.

Of course, that underlying tension hadn’t left. It never did. During a lull in the conversation, Gura would see that same, far off, painful look. She’d think to herself, _I’ll keep pretending I don’t notice. If she wanted to talk to me, she would._ But truth be told…

Her patience was wearing a little thin.

At some point the two made their way to a local park. Their conversation carried them to a secluded area, where trees cast shadow over fresh green lawns and the sound of children playing was replaced by a soothing, natural quiet. There was a small pond, one which housed a paddling of ducks. Gura looked at them fondly; in a strange way, they reminded her of her younger self. She often felt a particular kinsmanship with water dwelling creatures of any kind.

The two sat beneath a tree and simply enjoyed each other’s company.

“What’s the weirdest time adventure you’ve ever been on?”

“Oh, uhhhh…” Ame smirked and tapped her chin, much like any fictional detective would do while deep in contemplation. The cartoonish body language was adorable, in Gura’s humble opinion. “That’s a toughie. I’ve gotten into a lot of weird shit.”

Affectionately, Gura rolled her eyes. “Oh I’m sure. Okay, then… Hm…” A lightbulb went off, she’d formulated the perfect question: “Have you ever banged a famous historical figure?”

Watson blinked. She paused, like a computer failing to understand an invalid request. Then, she broke into a fit of giggles, her cheeks became a precious red. “W-What the hell, Gura??” She laughed. Her blonde hair fell like a curtain in front of her face and the Atlantean fought an urge to tuck a golden strand behind the detective’s ear. “No, no. Not that I can think of.”

“Lame.”

“NO WAIT—!”

“Wh- Huh….?”

Watson brought a hand to her forehead. She took in a breath, exasperated with herself. “I totally forgot, no you’re right Gura! I actually _have_ fucked someone historic!”

Gura’s jaw fell open. “What?? Wait, like seriously? Who???” She couldn’t deny wanting to know. In fact — though she tried to ignore it — the very mention of Ame’s alleged sex life made her stomach tighten and bombarded her brain with pervy imagery. Swallowing those desires, she allowed her curiosity to overpower her shame. She leaned in close, eyes sparkling. Eager for juicy time traveler gossip.

Amelia nodded, sagely. “Mhm, I ground-pounded your mom.”

“…Goddamnit Watson.”

But it was impossible to feel too disappointed when Amelia cracked up. She clutched her stomach and folded over in laughter. Another smile: another _genuine_ smile. “Sorry, sorry,” she apologized through amused huffs of air. “I had to.”

Gura was sure her heart skipped a beat as she sat there listening to Ame regain control of her laughter. Amelia’s cheeks were rosey. In a strange way, she reminded Gura of flowers. Her bright yellow hair and pale face, with just a splash of color… It invoked sunflowers, primrose and daffodil.

 _Sunshine and flowers,_ Gura’s mind rang out. _She’s like the embodiment of Spring._

Then she remembered the museum Ame was reading about, and the devastation she kept locked behind her wall of cheeky humor and plastic smiles.

 _Or maybe she’s more like Fall…_

As the two settled down, Gura’s attention was drawn back towards the pond. The ducks spread their wings and pushed off, flying away from the water with as much grace as a duck could manage. She watched the pond ripple and wave under the weight of their takeoff, before it settled back to its state of peaceful stagnancy. Her tail twitched and she could feel her gills flutter beneath her shirt.

She enjoyed the surface, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t miss the ocean.

Her face must’ve betrayed her silence because Watson easily deduced her feelings. “Do you miss it?” Gura sometimes cursed her inability to play it cool. Her heart was always on her sleeve, beating openly for anyone to see. Today however, she decided she didn’t mind.

“Miss what?” She asked. “Atlantis? Water? Just… swimming?”

Ame tilted her head. “All of the above?”

“Yeah… sometimes…” Fidgeting with the sleeve of her hoodie, she allowed memories of a once great empire to seep back into the forefront of her mind. Majestic, masterful architecture and towering buildings crafted of the finest stone. She recalled a time where the Atlantean tongue was spoken freely and she could hunt ocean prey to her heart's content. She missed it. She missed it in a deeply complex way, which could only ever be understood by one who's walked the surface for thousands of years, carrying the remnants of a fallen culture within them. “A lot of the time, actually.”

Amelia frowned sympathetically. “Why are you—” She opened her mouth to speak, but quickly shut herself down. The question remained unspoken, yet hung dreadfully obvious in the air.

A complete tone shift settled between them.

Gura looked at the time traveler; regarded her with disbelief. She knew what Amelia was about to ask, as it was the same question she’d been dying to drop for ages. _The audacity of this woman._ She finished Amelia’s question: “Why am I still here?” She didn’t have an Atlantis to return to, but surely, the ocean still called to her.

Amelia didn’t answer with words. She nodded.

A hesitant second of silence passed while Gura thought to herself, _I don’t have to say a word… I could keep pretending. I could shut up, and everything would continue as it always has._ But catching sight of that same look on Ame’s face — that wounded, lonely, irritating goddamn expression.

Her patience reached the end of its road. 

“Y’know Watson, I’ve been wanting to ask you that very same question.”

Gura heard it — the sharp intake of breath. She dared to glance at her beautifully broken sun. Amelia blinked, slowly. Then turned away. “Ah… Sorry… forget I said anything.”

Gura felt deep agitation, working its way up her gut and clawing her chest. She bared her teeth at the detective, and grunted. “No, I don’t think I will. We’re talking about this. Now.”

To say Amelia looked stunned was an understatement. Gura faltered. She took a deep, pacifying breath. She closed her eyes and forced her flaring temper to fizzle down into a soft, nurturing flame. “Ame…” She started, gently. “I care about you. More than I could ever put into words.”

The static in Ame’s brain was practically audible. “Wh-Where’s this coming from?”

The Atlantean pulled her knees to her chest and hugged them close. “Sometimes you just look… so darn sad, and it breaks my heart.” The aggravation she felt mere moments ago was replaced by frustrating sorrow. “I… I wish I knew what goes on in that dumb head of yours.”

One last, pathetic attempt to avoid the conversation: “Gura you… y-you don’t have to worry about me I’m fin—”

“—and always with the lies, Watson.”

Amelia fell silent.

Gura sighed. Suddenly, she felt very tired. “Hey… Why’re you still here, Ame? What are you looking to get out of this place? This…” Gura gestured vaguely to the world around them, “…everything? Why aren’t you at any other place at any other time? If here and now isn’t making you happy, then why are you _here_? Why _now_?” Her voice wobbled. Sometimes the hardest questions were the most necessary to ask.

Amelia rubbed the back of her neck, sheepish and bashful. “I… I’m happier here than I’ve been anywhere else…”

“Is that true?”

“I think so…”

Gura studied the detective, carefully. “Ame?”

A quiet, affirmative hum.

“Can you tell me about that museum that’s closing down?”

For once in Amelia’s life, she too wore her heart on her sleeve. Gura could see every stage of her thought process, from the fear of opening up to the regret and finally the reluctant surrender. She pawed anxiously at her watch. “It’s not anything interesting.” She warned. She settled against the trunk of the tree with a heavy, nostalgic aura. “My family used to take me there when I was little, is all.”

Gura nodded. She wanted to listen. She wanted to take in every word Amelia had to say because by God, she was finally opening up and letting someone peer at the machinations of her mind. “Why’d you have that look on your face? When you were reading about it earlier?”

“Nothing special, really.” Watson solemnly admitted. “The museum was just a museum. But my family…” She trailed off, an ominous air surrounded her. “I miss them a lot.”

“You can’t go back to see them?”

“No easier than you can go back to see yours, no.” Those words tore through Gura’s chest like a jagged spear. “At least… not in a way that matters. Their daughter disappeared when she was like, twelve. I’m twenty six…”

Gura connected the dots on her own.

“But it’s not just my family,” Ame continued. “I miss everything.”

“Everything?”

“Fucking everything.” Thankfully, Gura didn’t need to ask for elaboration. Ame continued of her own volition, the words tumbling and gushing forth like a raging rapid escaping its floodgates. “Nowhere I go brings back the past, and I can’t do anything about it. I miss my home, and my life… I miss not being haunted by this stupid machine.”

She glared at her watch.

She kept talking.

“Being a time traveler has its ups and downs, Gura. The ups are fun, sure. But the downs are the absolute fucking worst. I… I can’t ever stay anywhere because I never belong. I get close to people who don’t exist on the same wavelength as me. I wonder what I’m missing, what I could be seeing… Who I could be talking to, who I could be loving or hating o-or…” A waver in her voice; usually so calm and confident and collected. “I’ve been given the ability to see so much time, but I have so little of it. And my past is in the past, I can’t change it… The future is scary…”

Finally, she looked at Gura with more meaning and emotion than the Atlantean could ever remember seeing in those gorgeous alice blue eyes. “I’m just… so fucking scared, Gura…”

It finally clicked. A wave of sullen realization washed over Gura. Just as there are things that only she could understand, there were also things only Ame could understand. Such complicated grief, which at the same time, could be boiled down to fear. But then again, couldn’t everything? Most of the negativity in the world was, at some level, rooted in fear.

Fear of loss. Fear of failure. Fear of the unknown, of being unknown. Fear of growing close to someone and the subsequent fear of losing them. A time traveler’s experience was something Gura could never comprehend. But what she _could_ comprehend was fear.

They’d both felt plenty of it.

It was by instinct, just as natural as her desire to hunt, that Gura wrapped Ame in a hug. She could hear a surprised gasp, but she didn’t hesitate. She locked her arms around Amelia’s waist and buried her nose into the nape of her neck, nuzzling gently. Her tail wrapped limply around Ame’s leg as she tried to encompass as much of her as possible in a comforting embrace. She whispered, “I’m not going anywhere. I’m here, and I’m real. And I’m not leaving you.”

A sob tickled Amelia’s voice and Gura didn’t need to check to know that she was tearing up. “Promise…?”

“I’ve been kicking for 9000 years, Sunshine. And I’ll be around much longer than you’ll have that dumb watch.”

Ame stilled. Her shoulder tensed, and Gura could feel her rapid heartbeat. “I don’t… I don’t want to leave you… Y-You’ve already lost so much.”

Gura felt her heart break a little more. “It’s okay, Watson. It’s okay.” She knew Amelia well enough to know that she wanted to protest. But the minute Gura lifted her head and pressed a delicate kiss to her tear-streaked cheek, the detective’s will to argue shut down. Gura huffed a small chuckle when she saw Ame’s blush.

“I love you.” It was the second time those words left her lips that afternoon, and this time, their depth was clear as day.

Ame smiled. It was bright and genuine and warm. Much like sunshine. “I… I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! This fic was greatly inspired by this lovely lil comic here: https://twitter.com/bbbbungle/status/1359246019482050562
> 
> Uugggghhh FUCK writers block. I think I'm happy with how this turned out. I kinda used this fic as a way to power through that block though, so... sorry if it's actually a bit messy xgvsb-
> 
> I have a lot I need to work on. The amesame spice, the third chapter of TDP... a whole lotta WIPS.
> 
> HOPE Y'ALL LIKED THIS THOUGH. Yay amesame. I've been seeing a lot of great iname on here lately, and while I do love them, I'd be lying if I didn't say I missed all the amesame. I'm a woman with NEEDS.
> 
> Anywho, catch me on Twitter if you want occasional fic updates. Or just... me screaming about Vtubers lmao. https://twitter.com/AShaaaaark


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